


Dialectics

by elo_elo



Series: The Woods [9]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Outdoor Sex, Public Sex, Smut, Sticking it to The Man, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, im delirious lol, sheltering in place is something else, sticking it to each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:54:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23389111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elo_elo/pseuds/elo_elo
Summary: Emily wants to stick it to the corporate ghouls at Joja. Sebastian and Joni might just be drunk enough to do it. Smut and shoplifting ensue.
Relationships: Sebastian/Female Player (Stardew Valley)
Series: The Woods [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1405675
Comments: 8
Kudos: 86





	Dialectics

**Author's Note:**

> This is a smutty one-shot that uses the dynamics of my larger series but doesn't need prior knowledge of it to be enjoyed! 
> 
> For those that have read the larger series: this takes place between Out of the Woods and Seeds.

It’s the beer. Surely. That must be why everything feels just a little slow, a little weird. Maybe the weed too. Just a couple tokes in the Saloon’s wood-paneled bathroom. Emily and Joni standing on their tiptoes to blow smoke out of the bathroom’s single narrow window, the summer air full of the smell of fresh-cut grass, the smoke of a distant bbq. Joni should have known better, sitting now at the far end of one of the Saloon’s heavy oak tables, weed never calms Emily down.

She’s pretty much always like this to some extent. Orating. Going on and on about her flavor of the month. But there’s usually an airiness to her, a dreamy quality that keeps you drifting along with her. Tonight, she’s all sharp edges. Heated. Borderline belligerent. “Price gouging,” she says, talking with her hands, mug of beer left untouched in front of her, condensation slipping in rivulets down its frosted surface, “long hours! Unfair pay! Working at Joja is indentured servitude!” Leah shoots Joni a look. Joni hides her smile with a sip of beer. Abigail’s all but dozed off, leaning heavily on Leah’s side, eyelids fluttering as Leah cards through her lavender hair with her fingers. It’s been a minute since she’s touched up her roots, a dark inch of her chestnut hair peeking out from her scalp. “Did you know,” Emily says, the bangles around her wrists chiming as she moves, “did you know that Sam wasn’t allowed to take any time off when his dad was discharged?” Joni frowns, taking another sip of her beer. She hadn’t heard that actually. But now all those hushed late-night phone calls Sebastian made to Sam about a month ago – just a few days before Kent returned after his second tour of duty, looking somehow more haggard than the last time – make sense. Joni feels immediately guilty about the limp Joja spinach she has in her fridge back at the farmhouse. “I heard Morris made him _beg_ in his office and still wouldn’t give him the day off.”

“It wasn’t that dramatic,” Abigail says sleepily from Leah’s shoulder, her hair spilling over Leah’s paint-flecked smock, “but, yeah, he was pretty fucked up about it.”

“Yoba, that’s shitty.” Joni leans back, takes another sip of beer. The Saloon’s packed tonight. Lots of summer tourists in town to escape Zuzu’s sweltering heat. Joni spots a few climbers over by the pinball machines, their rope bags, heavy with jangling carabiners, swung over their shoulders. There’s been more of them up in the foothills on the edge of town, at least according to Robin. She’d come by the farmhouse the morning before to drop off one of Demetrius’ plum galettes, mentioned off-hand that she’d seen about a dozen campers and vans over by the mountain lake last weekend. The Saloon’s door swings open, another crowd of out of towners. A warm breeze follows them in. It’s a nice night. A perfect night, really. They’re smack in the middle of the dog days of summer, the sun just skimming the horizon, dipping beneath the trees only for a few hours, the sky a starry, pale blue. But a storm had come rushing in off the ocean the day before, battering the coast and leaving the air still and cool and sparkling in its wake. Joni pulls her windbreaker a little closer around her, goosebumps racing up her bare legs. But the chill is fleeting, the air still warm from the summer sun. The Saloon is always warm too. Something about all the wood and the glowing light from the wall sconces. Emily is still talking when Joni finally looks back at the table, her hands flying around her face and Joni settles back into her chair, taking small sips of her beer, trying to let the weed they smoked settle into a quiet thrum. She’s nearly there when she feels a prickle at the back of her neck, looks up to see Sebastian heading toward their table. He’d been at the pool table for most of the night, a couple defeated looking out of towners milling around it now.

Joni smiles, scooting over so he has room to pull up a chair. He plops down onto it and lights a cigarette, nodding at Abigail who raises a single sleepy hand in greeting. Emily stops mid-sentence, like she’s only just aware that someone else has joined them. “You seem heated,” Sebastian says as he takes his first long drag. His hand finds Joni’s knee under the table and squeezes. She waggles her eyebrows at him from over the lip of her beer.

“I am heated!” Emily slams back into her chair in a huff, arms crossed over her chest. Her aquamarine hair flips through the air as she shakes her head. “We are at _ground zero_ for the biggest corporate takeover this country has ever seen.”

Sebastian leans forward, rooting around in the glass bowl of peanuts Gus left them at the start of the night, searching for something that isn’t just shell. “Huh.”

Emily narrows her eyes at him. “I know you know _exactly_ what I’m talking about, Sebastian.” She points a stern finger at him. Joni’s not sure she’s ever seen Emily this intense, this cogent. Joni knows the reason why, hell it’s still hanging a little heavy on her too, but it’s still almost jarring to see her normally dreamy friend like this. “I’ve seen your bookcase. A man does not read Lukacs and Althusser and not believe in the inherent cruelty of capitalism.”

Sebastian chuckles, tapping the ash from his cigarette into the ceramic ashray. It’s in the shape of a lounging bear, the gloss a little chipped on one end. “Joja’s been in Pelican Town for almost a decade, Em. Something new happen?”

Joni leans in so her their arms touch. “You didn’t hear about what happened today?” Sebastian glances over at her, eyebrow raised. Joni shakes her head, plucking a peanut from between Sebastian’s fingers and plopping it into her own mouth. “Emily can probably tell it better than me. I only came in at the end.”

Sebastian goes a little stiff, brow furrowed now. He takes another drag and Joni can feel that he’s gone completely still. The kind of quiet he gets when he’s listening very hard, when the gears are turning in his head. “What happened?”

Emily sniffs, some of her bluster bleeding out as she settles heavy in her chair. “Morris humiliated Pierre is what happened.” A muscle in Sebastian’s jaw jumps. Abigail excuses herself, heading for the bathroom. Emily shakes her head. “The energy was so bad. Putrid energy, totally discordant man.” Sebastian glances at Joni, she takes another sip of beer. She hadn’t been lying when she said she came at the tail end of whatever confrontation had transpired in Pierre’s store but it hit hard. She’d been heading across the square, scrawled grocery list clutched in her fist, when she saw Morris walking quickly from the general store. The expression on his face so smug, so self-satisfied, that it stopped her in her tracks. Pierre had looked gutted when she came in, so completely unlike himself that Joni forgot her list and instead bought two bags of peanut m&ms, Emily seething over by the produce. He’d closed up early, hadn’t come to the Saloon. Joni glances over at Sebastian as Emily tells the rest of the story. Coupons geared toward the sudden influx of tourists, that big new Joja billboard over on the highway just outside of town drawing them in. That muscle is still jumping in Sebastian’s jaw.

It’s full dark by the time they leave the Saloon; linger out front while Sebastian finishes his cigarette. They watch as Leah helps Emily back toward her house, Abigail just a few steps behind. Emily’s fucked out her mind, but they’ve all got a buzz going.

Joni leans against the Saloon’s stone wall, softened by its thick ivy. Fireflies drift across the dark, leaving fading streams of light in their wakes. Joni glances around the corner of the building, back toward the general store. There’s a lone light on in the attic, the rest of the house dark. She’d cried her first time in that store. Nearly fresh off the bus, so completely overwhelmed that she’d started sobbing over in the canned goods, a pouch of parsnip seeds clutched in her fist. Pierre had patted her gently on the shoulder, stood patiently beside her as she sorted through the seed bin. When she’d checked her bag on the way home from the shop that day, she found that he’d slipped a little chocolate in with her seeds. The shop smelled then, like it does now, of hay and alfalfa, of apple skins. Joni shivers, frowns. “It’s really fucked up.” She feels Sebastian shift beside her. “Like so fucked up.”

“Extremely.” They stand for a while in silence. Through the Saloon’s open window, Joni can hear Gus closing up. Dishes clanking, the soft rush of water from the sink. Outside, the crickets chirp loudly, a soft breeze rustles the heavy leaves of the trees. “You know,” Sebastian says, smoke billowing out in front of him, “Joja’s still open.”

Joni peers up at him. “So?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Seems like a nice night to…liberate some assets. Redistribute some resources.”

Joni snorts. “You’re drunk.”

“Very.” He glances at her. “Didn’t you get arrested once? For shoplifting? I thought you told me that.”

Joni laughs, incredulous. “I was 14! And I didn’t get arrested, I just got a lecture.”

“Huh.”

She looks up at him from the corner of her eyes. He’s grinning. She tries hard to not do the same.

Jojamart is the same no matter the season, no matter the time of day. It smells like industrial floor cleaner, the remnants of it stick to the bottoms of their shoes as they walk. The doors swish shut behind them. Joni blinks, the harsh fluorescent light from the high warehouse ceiling has blanketed everything in a desolate white, light refracting painfully from the glass and chrome of the distant aisles. It’s jarring really, to come in from a summer night into this. Joni and Sebastian waver by the entrance. They glance at each other. Something about the bright lights and dull chim-y music playing quietly in the background seems to have sobered both of them up. The lone cashier glances up at them, leaning heavily on her hand. She can’t be older than nineteen, strands of her gingery hair stuck to her cheeks, getting more and more disheveled each time she dozes, barely catching herself from falling face first onto the counter with the palm of her hand.

Joni nearly decides to just head home, to forget about this silly, drunken half-plan when she spots Morris heading from the bathroom near the side of the store. He’s a short man, nearly half the size of lanky Pierre, with a rounded pot belly that strains the buttons on his suit jacket. He walks bent slightly forward, like he’s trying to propel himself quicker, and his spindly limbs give him the illusion of being a strange, angry crane. And he still, despite all the hours that have passed since he’d barged into the general store with a fist full of coupons, has that smug, awful look on his face. She rises to the tips of her toes and leans toward Sebastian. “He’s still here.”

Sebastian squints. “Holy shit. What time is it?”

Joni glances back at the clock above the doors. “Almost two am.”

“Yoba.” Sebastian stuffs his hands in his pockets. They both watch as Morris heads toward the back of the show. Sebastian rocks back on his heels, looks over at her, just one corner of his mouth twitches up. “I know you know how to do this.”

Joni frowns at him. “What?” He nods towards the store. “Fuck that implication.” He raises an eyebrow. She rolls her eyes, hands crossed over her chest. They stay like that, the clock ticking behind them, until Joni sighs. She grabs his arm, pulling him along toward the far aisle. “Keep an eye out. Cosmetics and skincare are the easiest. We should start there.”

“There’s my girl.”

“Can it, Sebastian. I’m reformed.”

He snorts. “Clearly.”

Maybe they were sloppy. Hell, Joni really hadn’t shoplifted since that single botched attempt back in high school. Or maybe there was some part of them, spurred on by mischief and beer, that wanted to get caught. The little delight they felt when Morris appeared at the end of the aisle, eyes widening as he watched Joni slip two bottles of shampoo into the pockets of her windbreaker, watched Sebastian slip four lipsticks into his jeans.

Joni had fallen back on old habits when he came stomping down the aisle, jumping like a scared rabbit and scurrying. Sebastian had too, flipping him off and following her out.

What they hadn’t expected, evident now as they both pant, still running toward the town square, was for Morris to chase them. But he has. Surprisingly agile, shockingly quick. Letting out a string of profanity so at odds with his prim, vaguely sinister countenance that more than once Sebastian and Joni stumble, glancing stunned over at each other. Joni rounds the corner of Pierre’s shop, fingers skimming the cool brick. She chances a look backward, catches sight of Morris coming bounding over the bridge “I cannot believe this guy hasn’t given up yet.”

Sebastian slows, panting, resting his hands on his knees. “What the fuck. We stole maybe thirty dollars’ worth of shit.” He coughs. “I hate these corporate fucks.”

Joni stops beside him, brushing her hair from her face. “I’m calling the cops you degenerates!” Morris’ voice echoes in the quiet night. A light flickers on in one of the general store’s back windows. “Fucking hippy idiots!”

Sebastian coughs again, still bent over, then looks up toward the dark path. He glances back at Joni, then straightens up, grabbing hold of her hand. “Come on,” he says, starting to run again. “I know where we can go.”

The window comes open with a single hard shove. Sebastian brushes dust from his shoulder before crouching down, offering his hands to lift Joni up to the window. She scrambles through, landing hard on the wooden floor. 

The dust she’s kicked up scatters through the air. Joni can see, by the dim light of the moon filtering through window, a pair of cracked chairs in the center of the wide room. In one corner, a bulletin board hangs crooked from a single nail, water warped papers still clinging to the cork. Beyond that, a heavy tree branch has grown through a window, the shattered glass of its pane glittering in the soft moonlight. The tree’s leaves shiver in some unseen breeze, a lone firefly skitters along the floor. With a grunt, Sebastian climbs in after. “Where are we?”

“The community center.” But before Joni can ask him what the hell that is, he’s on her, hands around her jaw, pulling her up into a kiss. His mouth hot and needy. She wraps her arms around his neck, heart pounding from the run. It’s only when she feels the chill of the wood through the thin fabric of her dress that she realizes he’s walked her back to the far wall. In the darkness, he looms. A mass of heat, blotting out the light of the moon. She leans into him, lets his smoky, musky scent rise up around her, lets the kiss steal all her breath. “It’s hot,” he breathes, nipping at her bottom lip with his teeth, “when you do bad things.”

Joni smiles against his mouth, rakes her nails down the back of his neck, relishing his quiet gasp. “Up for debate,” he nips again at her lips, leaning down to kiss her harder, “whether or not,” another kiss, “what we did was bad.”

Sebastian chuckles, reaches down the hike her dress up over her hips. His fingers find her, tracing along the line of her panties. He kisses along her jaw, runs his free hand along her neck. Joni gasps when his thumb starts to circle her clit, letting her head knock softly back against the wall. He pushes her panties to one side and when he slips a finger inside, she reaches for him. Finds him pressing hard against his jeans. Joni pulls him closer by the hem of his pants, feels the heat of his breath when he laughs. She fumbles in the darkness with his zipper. “Having some trouble?” He whispers into the shell of his ear. She grins when he gasps once she finally takes him in her fist. Joni can’t quite close her fingers around the width of him and even after all these years that thrills her. Sebastian thrusts into her hand, sending her knocking back against the wall. “You’re so wet,” he groans, adding another finger. Joni lets her head fall against his chest, closes her eyes as he rocks into her fist, working her up with his fingers. She’s inching closer, heat building up between her thighs and she can tell, by the way his hips are stuttering, that Sebastian is inching closer too. Their moans echo in the empty room, joining the chorus of the crickets, of the summer breeze through the trees. Higher and higher until the sound of a crash sends them rocking away from each other. They both freeze, eyes darting from each other to the dark corners of the room and back. The moonlight has only illuminated the thin patch of light where they’re standing now, the rest they cannot see, just shades of darkness. Another crash. “Oh fuck.”

Joni makes a beeline for the window they’d come in, pulling Sebastian along with her. “Let’s get the fuck out of here!”

Sebastian practically tackles her once they reach the mountain path toward home, his hands bracing her fall as they land in a patch of undergrowth. She can smell the herbaceous kick of mallow and yarrow where they’ve landed, the honeyed scent of milkweed. Joni reaches back to try and find something to cling to, overwhelmed by the heat of him between her legs, by his hands hunting up her bare thighs. She finds the familiar thorns of a blackberry bush and has only a moment to consider their painful prickling against her skin before he’s inside her again. His long, dexterous fingers. She reaches for him, fingertips dark from the blackberries she’s crushed. He takes them between his teeth, tongue laving each one until his mouth is dark from their juice and when he leans down to kiss her, she can taste them on his tongue. She reaches down between her legs to find him, drags her fingers along the hard length of his cock. He hisses when she runs her thumb along the tip, canting his hips. Joni eases him down, guiding him inside. They both exhale when their hips meet, both arch into each other. “God,” he breathes into her neck, thrusting slowly, the muscles in his arms hard and taut from holding himself up above her, “god, god, _god._ I love you.” She says it back, whispers it against the line of his jaw. The things they stole are spread out across the grass, lit by the moonlight.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, as always, for reading <3\. I hope everyone is doing alright. Times are crazy as shit and I hope that reading this gives you the same silly peace it gave me to write it.


End file.
